When I was growing up, I remember Groundhog Day as the day I was officially totally sick of winter and wanting it to warm up. But I think I lived in northern Virginia at the time, where winters are cold and wet. Sometimes very cold and/or very wet.
Here in northern Arizona, winters are glorious. It does snow every year, and it sometimes rains, but the weather is often cool, sunny, and dry, making it perfect weather to be outside. So, here, I do long for a long(er) winter. But elsewhere, I’m usually done by this point. (Though, granted, I haven’t lived anywhere but here in my “I’m never cold anymore” years, so my attitudes may have changed.)
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